


Break the Bars

by Elkian (SuperImposed)



Series: Whump for the Whumpscord [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Captivity, Concubus, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rescue, Whump, a bit - Freeform, blue and orange morality, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/Elkian
Summary: Crossposted from tumblr, a short story about shapeshifter, forced to look like a creepy man's crush at all times.





	Break the Bars

**Author's Note:**

> As tagged and referenced in the summary, there are references to nonconsensual situations, though nothing explicit is stated. The setting is depressing because of that but this is the start of the breakout and recovery arc, so.
> 
> Part 1: https://whump-for-the-whumpscord.tumblr.com/post/179399978815/more-warning-the-following-contains  
> Part 2: https://whump-for-the-whumpscord.tumblr.com/post/179400491190/captive-part-2
> 
>  
> 
> The survivor exists on a different morality plane than humans so it's less of a thing for them?? maybe?? but it's still dark and the other characters react so be warned

“This…. isn’t the treasury,“ Liam whispers. He feels someone nod against his shoulder, but his eyes are on the room - and he nearly jumps out of his skin as something moves in the corner.

“Darling?“ a dulcet voice calls out. After a breathless moment where the party holds stone-still, whatever- _whoever_ it is seems to look around, a pale blot in the darkness. “Hello?“

Liam goes to take a step back, but Amora grabs his arm before he does. “Liam,“ thon hisses, silver eyes narrowed in the dark. “Look.“

He pokes around the corner again, trying to see, trying to let his eyes adj-

cage. That’s. A cage. There’s a cage in the corner of the otherwise _exceptionally_ fancy bedroom, and his stomach turns. The figure in the cage turns, as well, and he _knows_ they see him now. “Hello?“ they ask again, voice falling softer.

Zsal pokes her head under his arm. “Treasury should be past that door,“ and yup, there’s a door at the back of the bedroom, “we can go around, but….“ he can’t see where she looks, yet _knows_ that her goggles are also locked on the. The cage.

“…we should check on them,“ he murmurs, and the words are barely out of his mouth before Amora strides forward.

“Hi there,“ thon says, crouch a little to be at a better height for the cage’s occupant, as Liam and Zsal follow, “we’re sorry for intruding, we’re a bit lost…“ thon trails off, one finger incautiously tapping a bar, making the stranger wince, “…and you don’t look too comfortable. Can we let you out?“

Zsal lights a dim flare, the amber light slowly revealing the room. The cage is an ugly thing for all it’s careful metalwork: unvarnished iron, twelve feet tall with about 6 cubic feet of floor space, not enough to comfortably lie down-

-even before he spots the _bars_ locking the prisoner’s legs open, one at the ankles and one at the knees, crude iron jarring against the sleek silkiness of their red teddy.

They place a hand against their face - they’re a pretty thing, like a painting, looking like a human with pale skin and huge liquid eyes and long dark hair, but the expression on their face is pure, unadulterated longing - and fear.

“Will-“ they glance towards the main door, the one their merry group had bypassed, shoulders hunching uneasily. “He’ll be angry.“

“We are kind of here to rob him, so he’s going to be angry either way,” Liam says, and he hopes that wince was surprise or concern over the subject matter and not his tone. He softens his voice nonetheless, “We- I don’t want to leave you here, locked in a cage, especially after we piss him off. Come with us.“

The figure presses slender hands to their face, looking torn and scared. “I-I-“ they swallow hard, eyes huge. “Please- don’t leave me here. You- you don’t have to take me with you, but _please-_ “

“You’re welcome to come with us, we’re planning to make a swift escape as soon as we have what we came for!“ Amora reassures, but they moan softly and cover their face entirely.

“You’ll hate me. Please don’t hate me. I promise I’m not trying to trick you,“ they whisper, voice a broken thing.

The group exchanges glances, and Zsal steps up. “Hold on a sec, sweetie,“ she says, popping a multitool into the lock. It gives easily, a simple thing - the prisoner, Liam seethes, was probably more restrained by fear than anything.

The hobble out, nearly falling, and Liam swoops in to catch them - the look they give him is heartbreaking, grateful and disbelieving and fearful all in one.

“We’ll get the Rose, you pop those locks,“ Zsal says, Amora trotting after her, and he nods.

“Let me get these for you.“ He kneels to open the- the bars, which is surprisingly simple.

Much stranger is the set of dull points on the inside, some not even touching skin, but clearly shaped with purpose.

“What’s with these?“ he asks, half to himself, but the prisoner haltingly answers:

“I-“ their face crumples, freed legs edging a little away from him. “I’m a shapeshifter. He, he wanted me- wanted me to look like-“

“It’s okay,“ Liam says without thinking, straightening up, barely resisting the urge to scoop them into a hug. He looks back at the bars. “These are made to hurt you if you- if you change?“

A nod. “Es-especially if I…“ their shoulders hunch, ashamed.

“Hey.“ Liam rests his hands on their shoulders without thinking, winces internally, but their eyes turn up to his face. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, okay? I just want to help.“

“Thank you,“ they whisper, eyes spilling without their apparent knowledge. They look down. “Can you- I need- I can’t do it myself,“ they whisper, and they show him the seals on the bottom of each foot, the iron nail hammered in to anchor it.

Liam tamps down his mounting anger and carefully works each nail out, murmuring seal-breakers as he goes. It must be horrifically painful, but they barely flinch.

“Why the feet?“ he asks, again more to himself and getting answer nonetheless.

“He didn’t have to- look, if he didn’t want to,“ they murmur, “he wanted to pretend, all the time…“

“Makes sense,“ Amora says, making the pair jump as thon and Zsal hustle out of the treasure room, the Rose Ruby in tow. Thon shoots the captive a reassuring smile. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.“

They pause at the door, the captive taking a deep breath, and looking frankly shocked when they manage to pass over the threshold.

\---------

The quartet slip out of the fortress of a manor, Liam leading and popping doors, Amora supporting the fore half of the Rose and Zsal the back, and their rescuee taking up the rear.

The humanoid had started closer to the front, thin fingers gripping Liam’s shirt, or hand between doors, but had slipped back slower and slower as they’d gone, thankfully never falling completely behind.

“Finally!“ Amora sighed with relief as thon set the enormous Ruby on a tree stump, cracking thons back. Zsal shook out her hands with an amused look, then glanced at their fourth, hovering at the edge of the clearing.

“You with us, sweetie?”

The former captive didn’t jump, this time, swinging their head to slowly look at their rescuers. A sad smile flitted across their lips, fleeting as a sigh.

“I think… I should go. And not trouble you anymore.“ They toed at the ground, shoulders tight with not shifting. “I can go home now, thanks to you…”

“I mean, you can if you want, but I wouldn’t mind ke- er, having you around,” Zsal says, coughing to cover her awkward slip.

They smile at her, liquid brown eyes sad as all hell. Liam shoots them a worried glance from where he was double-checking their prize, and Amora looks up from where thon was stretching.

“I don’t think you will,“ they say, taking another step back, as if an entire clearing between them and the party isn’t enough-

Their body begins to shift, peach skin paling and darkening and leaching color, shoulders narrowing and hips widening and horns splitting from their skull, but-

Like an artist’s mannequin, ball-jointed and -stomached, proportions blatantly inhuman, black and white with the crispness of enamel - a narrow, spiked tail whipping under crescent-cut wings, long legs terminating in angled points-

“You’re a concubus,“ Liam whispers, and they look at him, yellow-blue eyes squinting with the weak smile that follows.

“I didn’t trick you,“ they immediately respond, clawed hands coming up in a purely defensive motion. “I just wanted to go home. Please- I couldn’t have, the seal and the cage and the room barrier, I couldn’t have done that to myself, and I couldn’t leave- please don’t be angry,“ they broke off, misery unsettling on their demonic features.

“…I believe you,“ Amora says, hands propped on thons hips. “Just because shapeshifters have a bad rap doesn’t mean I believe it.“

Zsal shoots a goggled glance at Liam, who finally recovers a bit. “I believe you,“ he says, because he knows misery and desperation when he sees it. “I’m not mad. I know you wanted to get out of there.“ He flashes them a wry smile. “I would have done worse if it meant getting out.“

And he can’t unsee the spell-burnt holes in their black-white knees, the ragged edges from the enchanted iron spikes, similar marks around their narrow wrists.

“So!“ Zsal claps her hands, making everyone jump. She points at the concubus, who flinches back a little. “Invitation to come with still stands, if you want.“ She crosses her arms and grins fearsomely. “I’m immune to concu charms, after all, so no one needs to worry about that. You or them.“

The concubus looks between the trio, blue and yellow irises stark against black sclera, looking far too fragile for a supposed hellspawn. “If- if you’d have me,“ they murmur softly, a trembling smile taking root, “I would like that.“


End file.
